


Almost Blue

by airyblue



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged up characters, Explicit Sexual Content, Haikyuu BigBang 2019, Kuroo and Kenma are there too, M/M, Mutual Pining, Office Worker Akaashi, Personal Trainer Bokuto, Romance, Slice of Life, Strangers to Lovers, a bit of angst, lots of fluff, the real protagonists are the cats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21820798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airyblue/pseuds/airyblue
Summary: Bokuto & Akaashi meet on a rainy night in Yokohama in an izakaya and technically it's all Kuroo's fault. It's also Kuroo's fault if Akaashi notices Bokuto with his third beer of the hour and it's Kuroo's fault if at the end of the night Bokuto's number is saved in Akaashi's phone.tldr: Akaashi thought he only wanted Bokuto for the muscles, until he realizes he wants his heart too.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my contribution for Haikyuu BigBang 2019, almost one month late /nervously laughs  
> Unfortunately real life kept me too busy, but I guess here we are. It's my first time writing Bokuaka, but I love them lots and I hope you guys will like them too.  
> Thank you to A. for the help with the descriptions of all things Japan you find in this fic, to G. for pulling me into Haikyuu! as she does for every single fandom she's into. Finally, thank you to Karma for her help with betaing!
> 
> ps. if there's imperfections in the descriptions of Japanese places, I'm sorry :( I've only been to Japan once, so my knowledge of the place is only limited.  
> pps. the name of Akaashi's cats are inspired from the legend of Vega & Altair. I know there's a Japanese version of the legend, but I preferred to leave the English version of their names, since the fic is in English.

It’s drizzling when Akaashi finally reaches T. Department store in Yokohama. His shirt has felt damp since he’d left the subway station and its air conditioning, but it’s too hot to put on the jacket he’s holding under his arm. The air of the city is so still—not even the slightest breeze— it feels heavy, like breathing in gulps of water. As Akaashi hurries into a narrow road beside the department store, he feels like he’s floating in a fish bowl.

The area is less busy than expected; only a couple— a guy and a girl holding hands— are walking behind him, whereas the crowd that had left the subway station with him seems to have dispersed in other directions.

The couple’s talking about the company where the guy works, Akaashi unintentionally overhears. He’s not interested, not in the slightest, but he lets the conversation the strangers are having flow through his ears without feeling too guilty about peeping into their lives. The girl’s talking about a change of shift when Akaashi feels his phone buzz in his pocket.

He doesn’t need to check who it is, as he slides his thumb on the screen to pick up the call.

“Sorry, overtime as usual,” he says straight, without greeting the person on the other side of the line. “Where are you?”

Konoha’s voice is muffled by the sound of a car passing by, as he replies. “The corner next to the izakaya.”

“Ah,” Akaashi looks up and a car— he suspects it’s the same car he heard on Konoha’s side when he spoke, turns the corner and proceeds straight towards Akaashi. “I’m almost there, if you turn around the corner you should see me.”

Konoha tells him to wait, then he appears from the same corner the car came from. Akaashi’s stopped listening to the couple’s conversation by now, as he nods his head in reply to Konoha’s big but slightly lazy greeting from the corner— he’s waving his hand, encouraging Akaashi to move his ass.

Akaashi walks slightly faster, and the voices from the couple behind him become fainter and fainter until he can’t hear them anymore.

“You’re always late,” Konoha whines. He drapes his arm around Akaashi’s shoulders and intentionally puts half of his useless weight on him. He’s all sweaty and just as sticky feeling as Akaashi is. Akaashi just hums back, mostly because him being late from work is not exactly something he can fix as he likes, but also because he  _ tends to be  _ late even when it’s not work related. It’s just him taking his time to do things.

The izakaya is on the fifth floor of a pretty uninteresting looking building, along with other businesses. They’ve been here a couple times before, since Konoha works in the area and commutes between Yokohama and Tokyo every day. Konoha guides him into a small elevator on the first floor, and they squish into the back as someone—-two businessmen—- ride with them. There’s a few moments of silence, then the two businessmen start talking and Konoha does too.

“Remember Kuroo, the guy I talked to you about a couple weeks ago?” he asks, keeping his voice low as the buttons light up to signal that they’re reaching the second floor.

“Your friend from high school, yeah.” Akaashi remembers him, Konoha’s talked about him quite a lot, along with a couple more people he’s still in contact with, even ten years after graduating. 

“He said he’d be here tonight.”

The elevator doors opens and the other people get off, leaving Konoha and Akaashi behind. When the doors close and they start approaching the fifth floor, Akaashi wonders for a moment why Konoha decided to bring up the friend from Miyagi out of the blue.  _ Politeness _ , maybe. So that in case they meet him, Akaashi knows what to expect. He decides that must’ve been it, since Konoha changes topic immediately and starts talking about what they’re gonna order when as the elevator doors open again and he leads the way into the izakaya.

The place is quite crowded despite it being a Wednesday night and the voices of people chattering away mix with the sounds coming from the kitchen. The air is so crisp compared to the outside Akaashi feels like living again— he breathes deeply, taking in the room with a glance. The booths seem to be almost all occupied already, so Akaashi expects Konoha to choose one of the tables with the bench-like seat on one side and a regular chair on the other. He’s already walking towards one of those, when Konoha points in the opposite direction.

“Yo, Akaashi, over there,” he prompts, coming back to tap his shoulder. “My friend’s over there,” he repeats himself.

When Akaashi looks up, he finally notices the group of people inviting Konoha to come over— or well, at least one of them seems to be over enthusiastic about it. This guy— some dude with impossibly messy hair— is waving almost flirtily at them with a lazy, honestly half terrifying grin on his face while he pats the back of the guy sitting next to him with more energy than seems necessary.

“Oya, Konoha! You came!” 

_ He’s loud _ , is the first thing Akaashi thinks. The second is that the other guy on his left is massive. Must be some gym junkie or something.

“Told you I would be coming,” Konoha starts, approaching the table as the other two people sitting on the opposite side of smirking guy and massive guy turn around to figure out what’s going on. “This is my friend I told you about. We both work for Y. Corp, he’s my superior technically.” Konoha turns to look at Akaashi for a moment, then he’s back on the group. “These idiots here are Kuroo, Bokuto, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi used to be my workmate.”

Akaashi bows, just out of politeness. “I’m Akaashi, from Konoha’s office. Nice to meet you.”

When he looks up again, massive guy is looking at him as he holds his glass of beer. He bows slightly— only with his head, and he seems a little unconvinced at first, but he smiles in the end. Akaashi thinks that would be a nice smile, if massive guy didn’t look like he’d gladly drown in that beer.

He has silver hair with black roots and big  _ huge _ golden eyes.  _ Cute _ , Akaashi thinks. Then puts himself back on track, because the odds of today’s company being on the same  _ side _ as Akaashi is much closer to 0 than 100. 

He looks down at the food on the table as smirking guy— Kuroo, apparently, invites him to sit next to him. He kinda regrets not being able to directly stare at the guy with silver hair, since he’s sitting on the other side, but at the same time he tells himself he’s avoiding the next rejection.

“What are you drinking, Akaashi-san?” 

“Beer, thank you. Sapporo. Konoha likes that one too.” He looks up at Konoha, who’s quickly flicking through the menu to choose the food and distractedly nods to confirm about the beer. 

It’s massive guy— Bokuto, who chugs down the remaining contents of his beer and pushes the button on the table to call the waiter.

Akaashi glances at him a couple times more. Out of curiosity, mainly, and also because to be completely honest Bokuto is exactly the type of guy Akaashi usually goes for. Big guy, with expressive eyes. Regardless of their personalities, the majority of the guy Akaashi has crushed on looked at least a little bit like Bokuto. 

Which doesn’t help Akaashi keep his attention away from him.

When the waiter arrives, Konoha has started a conversation with the guy Akaashi has learned is called Tsukishima— though Yamaguchi keeps calling him Tsukki, whenever he interrupts the conversation to add a comment or two.

“...I tell you he’s always been like that, Oikawa. At least according to Yahaba-san. No wonder he’s fucked up his knee again.” Konoha chatters away while Kuroo tells the waiter their orders. “Even when we were back in highschool he took some time off because he was injured and there were rumors everywhere about him not being able to play anymore.”

Akaashi just vaguely knows who they’re talking about, but everyone else at the table seems to be somewhat involved in the conversation, so he listens as well. 

Tsukishima just shrugs, as he takes a couple of edamame peas from a bowl in the center of the table and starts taking the shell off. “I don’t get his mindset, to be honest. It’s just a sport. Dedication is something, but...I don’t know. I wouldn’t break over a sport.”

“Always so cool, our Tsukki,” Kuroo comments, from Akaashi’s left. But he doesn’t sound too serious. If Akaashi had to say, he sounds rather amused by Tsukishima’s reaction.

“I find it quite admirable,” Yamaguchi says with a small smile. Which both Konoha and Tsukishima reply to with a bit of a shrug.

“I bet Iwaizumi doesn’t find it that admirable. He probably scolded Oikawa to death this time too,” Kuroo comments. There’s always this faint vein of sarcasm in his voice and Akaashi can’t help but wonder if it’s always there when he speaks.

That’s when Bokuto finally says something, and Akaashi figures out his voice is exactly what he expected: a bit rough at the edges, but not too low.

“He’s doing a little better, Oikawa I mean. And his knee is healing too. He’s coming to the gym to do some rehab exercises his physiotherapist gave him.” He leans a bit forward to meet Akaashi’s eyes. “Oikawa’s a friend of ours. He plays volleyball in the nationals. Do you play volleyball, ‘kaashi-san?”

Akaashi notices Kuroo raising an eyebrow then smiling, from the corner of his eye. He thinks about it for one second, then pushes the confusion away before nodding slightly at Bokuto’s question. “I did back in highschool. I’d probably be very bad at it right now.”

“We all somehow played, back in highschool. That’s how we know each other,” Yamaguchi explains, a little softly. “Oikawa Tooru is the only one of our friends who ended up playing for the national team, so we worry about him a lot. He’s…”

“He’s an ass, but you know. The nice kind,” Kuroo interrupts.

The waiter brings the food: some yakitori, fried rice and sashimi. He also takes away the empty plates, too, so their table is clearer once more. He replaces the big jug of beer in the middle and Bokuto pours some for Akaashi, before pouring for himself and Kuroo.

He keeps glancing at Akaashi through his glass of beer, even when the conversation shifts to other stupid things, like Konoha’s haircut and subsequently Bokuto’s apparently very embarrassing horn hair from when they were in high school.

Bokuto weakly insists it was cool, and that’s when Konoha shows Akaashi a very blurry picture probably taken with a flip phone and he can’t really help but laugh at poor Bokuto’s expense.

“At least he’s a catch, now, isn’t he?” Kuroo wraps an arm around Bokuto’s neck and half chokes, half smacks his head playfully a few times. Everyone else hums in reply, Konoha even pretends to vomit. Akaashi just keeps chuckling by himself as he sips on his beer.

Bokuto keeps looking a little off, even to someone who’s only seeing him today for the first time. He orders another jug of beer after drinking almost half the previous one. If his friends have noticed, they don’t say anything. Kuroo just keeps an eye on the guy, as he leads the conversation. 

.

  
  


“What do you think of him?” Kuroo asks, leaning on the wall outside the restaurant as he fishes a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. “Bokuto, I mean.” 

Akaashi’s standing next to him, as he tries to shake off the fuzzy feeling the beer has left in the back of his head, but it’s not working because it’s so damn warm; he should probably go back inside. Kuroo’s question takes him aback. He raises an eyebrow, wonders if he heard correctly. Then he wonders if he’s gotten the right implication regarding what Kuroo is asking him. “He...seems nice?” he replies, a little indecisive.

“No, I mean. You’re single, right?” He takes a drag of his cigarette, then he blows the smoke away from Akaashi. It curls in grey tendrils in the hot evening air. 

“I- I don’t understand.”

“You’re gay, aren’t you?”

Akaashi feels a weird pull to his chest. It’s a mixture of panic and anger, as he pushes himself away from the wall staring at Kuroo, who’s just looking back with a merely vaguely surprised expression. “Do I have to tell Konoha to go fuck himself for outing me?”

“Nah, I just...I guess I got a hunch,” Kuroo shrugs. “Being one too, you know. You should see my boyfriend. He’s about this tall, he’s cute.” He gestures with his hand hinting at his supposed boyfriend’s height, and Akaashi’s even more confused than before. “Bokuto’s been drinking the night away because his ex boyfriend got married last weekend. So I wondered if you were interested. He was looking at you a lot, so I thought-” He stops, turns to meet Akaashi’s eyes with the first serious face Akaashi has seen on him the whole night. “-nevermind.”

Akaashi doesn’t say anything, he just looks away. They pretend nothing happened as they ride the elevator again and enter the izakaya. Konoha’s hiccupping with his head on Tsukishima’s shoulder when they’re back. Yamaguchi is playing with Tsukishima’s hand on the table and Bokuto is staring at his phone, looking a little lost.

He looks up, when Kuroo and Akaashi get closer to the table. He zeroes on Akaashi first, then on Kuroo and finally he puts his phone away.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi starts, as he steals Kuroo’s place next to him. “So what do you do? Your job, I mean.” 

Kuroo probably thinks Akaashi’s doing this out of pity, and Akaashi kinda prefers it to look that way. Kuroo doesn’t need to know he would’ve probably asked Bokuto’s number at the end of the evening no matter what, even without the information about his ex-boyfriend and Bokuto’s pining. 

Bokuto, on the other hand, seems to like the attention. He looks at Akaashi as he talks about his job at the gym and he does seem a little drunk— probably a little  _ too _ drunk, but Akaashi doesn’t mind. His brain feels fuzzy too.

They both get dragged in more conversations as the evening goes on, and during one of those Akaashi saves his phone number on Bokuto’s phone. In case of a friendly volleyball match, he says. He definitely doesn’t mean it any other way. He  _ wants _ Bokuto to call, but Akaashi’s not that desperate, and who doesn’t like for their crush to call first?

When they separate, a little further away from the Izakaya, it’s 3am and the air doesn’t feel that suffocating anymore. Akaashi hesitates whether to wear that jacket he brought along or nah, as he waits for the taxi he called. 

Bokuto and Kuroo walk back, since apparently they both live close by, and Akaashi can’t help but grin a little, when he notices how Bokuto glances back to look at him as he stumbles next to Kuroo. 

While he’s getting in the cab he sees Kuroo pushing Bokuto away, in the distance.

Akaashi smiles, a bit drunk. He hopes he gets that call.

.

Akaashi’s phone rings way too early in the morning for his liking. He squints in the dim light of his bedroom, the whole room is diluted in this soft shade of orange, from the sunlight filtering through Akaashi thick blinds. He glances at the bed stand, then groans as he shifts under the blankets. The clock reads 7:22 am, which is definitely not too early to wake up on a weekday. However, today’s a Saturday and Akaashi was hoping to sleep in.

He can feel a warm lump under his feet and his cat stirs, just like she does every day when she feels Akaashi shifting under the sheets. Vega likes warm, dark places so it only makes sense that she decides to hide down there. The second bundle of fur is all snuggled up next to Akaashi’s shoulder, not even remotely disturbed by the continuous ringing of Akaashi’s phone. Altair likes to sleep right by Akaashi’s face for some reason, which means sometimes a lot of purring and dough making happens right on Akaashi’s face.

The ringing finally stops and Akaashi intensely thinks about diving back into the comfort of his pillow and comforter and ignore the call. He contemplates it seriously for about ten seconds, then finally sits up and grabs his phone.

The screen reads ‘Mom’, signaling an unanswered call. He sighs, as Altair opens one of his big, blue eyes with such a condescending look that Akaashi feels scolded.

“What.” He croaks, his voice a bit rough because of the air conditioning he left blasting all night. The room is cold, almost  _ too _ cold, and yet he feels sticky with sweat where Altair’s fur was warming him up like a small fireplace, right next to his neck.

The big, grey cat ignores him, closing his eye again and seemingly dozing back off to sleep. Akaashi pats his back absentmindedly, half trying to set his brain in motion, half staring at the screen of his phone as the display turns off. 

He takes a big breath, for mental preparation, then unlocks the screen again and presses call, falling back with his head on the pillow.

It takes a while for the call to connect, and he’s almost tempted to just hang up when he hears his mom’s voice on the other side. Her voice sounds energetic and joyful as it always had since Akaashi can remember as she says his name in a way that sounds almost like a melody.

_ “Keiji, good morning,” _ she greets, and Akaashi closes his eyes, wondering how things would go if he just fell asleep and pretended his mom never called and he never called back.

“How are you, mom? Good morning.”

_ “Did I wake you?” _ There’s concern in her voice, Akaashi can feel it through her voice. “ _ I can call later if you want,” _ she continues, and the concern gradients again to that positive, cheerful tone his mom always has. 

“It’s ok, mom,” he gives in, avoiding the question. “I needed to feed the cats anyway. Did something happen?” He clears his voice right after speaking and distractedly follows Altair with his hand as the cat climbs on his belly and starts kneading with his paws, his tail up and his eyes right on Akaashi’s face.

_ “Not really, Keiji. We haven’t talked for a while. Aren’t I allowed to miss your voice?” _

She is, Akaashi thinks. But things are complicated, and his mom, with her cheerful, positive voice, is too good to be dragged into the mess that is Akaashi’s life in Tokyo. “I’m sorry, mom,” he says instead. He bites back an  _ ouch _ , as Altairs claws dug in a little too deep, but he doesn’t push the cat away. “How’s Kotoko-chan?”

There’s noises of cutlery and water running and beeping sounds on the other side of the call. His mom probably just woke up to cook breakfast, probably her classic rice, miso soup, tamagoyaki, tofu and some vegetables. She would watch them eat, when they were younger, while she only had drip coffee. He wonders if that’s changed since he left home.

_ “Kotoko-chan just misses you a lot.”  _ There’s a pause, then Akaashi’s mom huffs a bit of air into the receiver, like a half laugh. _ “Just know she’ll end up showing up at your place one day. She’s very determined, your sister.” _

Akaashi chuckles, scratching the back of Altair’s ears. “I wonder who she gets that from?” His mom chuckles back, and he feels a pang of homesickness he hadn’t felt in a while. It’s like a grip on his lungs, makes it hard to breathe for a moment. “I have to go feed the cats, mom,” he lies.

_ “Already? Tell me about your job, your life...You never tell me anything, Keiji _ .” 

His mom sounds sad. It’s just a moment, a fleeting one. Then she seems to put herself back together, like the pieces of a broken glass. “ _ What am I doing, being all clingy to my older son? Just, visit soon, Keiji. Alright? Or your sister will come to kidnap you sooner than expected.” _

She laughs, but Akaashi’s pretty sure it doesn’t make her eyes crinkle like it should. “I will visit soon mom, I promise.”

They both know it’s an empty promise, but his mom doesn’t question it. She just reminds him to eat healthy and drink water. He says goodbye, hangs up and stares at the ceiling for too long after putting his phone away. Vega— smaller, long haired compared to Altair, must sense something’s wrong because peeks from under the white sheet as if to check on him. She paws at Altair once, then just lies down next to Akaashi’s ribcage.

It takes a while for that wire wrapped around his lungs to disappear. When it does, Akaashi finally gets up to feed the cats. Vega, with the best sixth sense like all ladies, sticks to him more than usual for the rest of the day. It feels nice and she looks pretty when she’s splayed next to him on the couch as he watches tv.

He snaps a picture and sends it to Kotoko, as a peace offering.

.

The air is chilly despite it being late August. After the heat wave of two weeks before, walking around in Tokyo feels a bit less like taking a stroll in a fishtank and more like the real, human world. From the train platform where Akaashi is slowly walking, following the crowd of Tokyo station at rush hour, he can barely see the city beyond the train station. Only the tops of the big skyscrapers surrounding Hibiya park and their thousand million lights shine in contrast to the pitch black sky.

Bokuto doesn’t call, not on the next day, after the meeting at the Izakaya, not after a week. Akaashi’s phone stays silent, much to Akaashi’s disbelief. Bokuto seemed a bit down, that’s true, but definitely into him enough to text at least. Akaashi regrets not asking him his phone number back, and regrets being the kind of flirt who gives his own number but waits for the other guy to call.

It’s two weeks later and Akaashi has just given up on that call and on Bokuto altogether— maybe he wasn’t that much into him, after all; maybe it was just a spur of the moment enthusiasm driven by beer and circumstances. Whatever the reason might be, Akaashi made every Bokuto related thought extremely small, so small he could ignore it and shoved it to the back of his brain. Until today, that is.

The automatic message playing from the speakers announces a train entering the station, which seems to disturb the slow flow of the crowd. People start moving faster, someone walks past Akaashi bumping into his shoulder hard enough to stun him for a second. He rubs his shoulder with a frown and looks up for a moment, following the back of that person’s head in the crowd. That’s when he catches a glimpse of silver from the corner of his eye, and he turns his head fully.

Given that he’d seen Bokuto only once that night in Yokohama, Akaashi thought he’d forgotten his face by now. Yet it takes him only one very brief moment to connect the silvery hair, huge shoulders and golden eyes of the guy standing on the other side of the platform to Bokuto Kotarou, the guy he’d met at the Izakaya two weeks before. 

Bokuto had probably noticed him before Akaashi did, because when Akaashi finally looks at him, Bokuto is meeting his eyes already. He doesn’t wave or anything and neither does Akaashi, really. There’s nothing special in rush hour at Tokyo Station on a Wednesday night, however the whole encounter— the two of them standing on two parallel platforms and the rest of the people around them suddenly feeling like blurred— it feels surreal. Akaashi is someone extremely practical. He doesn’t believe in movies as a good depiction of reality. The way they show life always feels a little off, like looking on a water surface. Yet, he can’t help but think this chance encounter could make a nice movie scene.

Akaashi’s lips unconsciously curl up in a small grin.

_ This is fun _ , he thinks.

The train enters the station slowly but quiet, hiding Bokuto from Akaashi’s sight for a few moments. People start moving around, restless, pushing even non intentionally, as they try to win a spot as close as possible to where the train doors will open. Akaashi should be one of those people, he should board this train and get off at Tamachi, only a couple stops after. 

He shifts his weight on one leg, then the other, trying to catch that glimpse of silver again through the train windows on the other side. People flow around him as he hesitates, and when the doors close right in front of him he feels like an idiot— he missed his train because of a potential fuck he’s not even sure he’s gonna get— but also a bit relieved for some reason he doesn’t understand.

He’s ready to scan the opposite platform as soon as the train moves, however he feels someone tapping on his shoulder and he doesn’t need to check, to know that he’s gonna see silver and gold the moment he turns around.

“Bokuto-san,” he greets with a small bow.

Bokuto Kotarou smiles back at him. He doesn’t bow, but he’s smiling a lot more brightly than he was for their first encounter. “Akaashi, I...didn’t think I’d meet you here.”

“I wasn’t expecting it either, really.” Akaashi replies, and he can’t help but close himself off a little. Akaashi offered his number, and Bokuto didn’t call.

“Must be destiny or something. Though I don’t really know anything about that stuff.” Bokuto, with his big shoulders and wide, charming smile, chortles a little, looking around as more people start to crowd the platform for the next train. He looks almost embarrassed, Akaashi would say. No, better.  _ Awkward _ . “Would you go for a walk? And some food, maybe? If you haven’t eaten, that is.”

Akaashi should say no. The guy didn’t call, he’s not into him.  _ Not into him _ .

“Yes, of course. Do you have any place in mind, Bokuto-san?”

.

“Kuroo said I should’ve texted you, Akaashi. But I don’t know...I felt a bit bad. I…” Bokuto pauses as he takes a bite off the yakitori he’s holding in one hand and follows with a sip of the Orion beer he insisted Akaashi should try too. “I’m not sure I want to talk about it yet but, by the time I was ok enough to call you, it had been so long...so…”

_ Ah, the ex-boyfriend _ , Akaashi thinks back at Kuroo’s words from two weeks ago, as he sips his beer and nods lightly in understanding.

Bokuto likes to talk, Akaashi noticed as they walk all the way from Tokyo Station to Yurakucho, along Hibiya park. He always leaves some space for Akaashi to comment and speak as he likes, but he’s the type of talker who knows how to fill in a conversation comfortably. Even when he’s talking about why he didn’t call. 

Akaashi hadn’t expected him to give him an explanation, but Bokuto must be just as honest as the first impression he gave him was. “It’s ok,” Akaashi replies. There’s no need to say anything more, and Akaashi’s not the type to hold a grudge against someone he’s attracted to.

“Just… I’m sorry, I guess.” Bokuto’s lips curl up slightly, but it seems he’s done with his apologies.

The restaurant, Achikoko, offers all kinds of food from Okinawa and some special liquor from the island as well, that Bokuto recommended a lot. It’s a small place, but definitely cozier than the izakaya in Yokohama where they’d first met. The tables are so close one to the other that everyone can hear what people are talking about at the other tables. There’s advertisement posters, pictures and a big pan with the menu of the day hanging by the door. Outside, there’s a few lanterns hanging against the door frame. It’s quite crowded today despite it not being the weekend. When Akaashi and Bokuto got in, the counter seats were all taken, so they ended up sitting outside. 

Given what this place looks like, Akaashi can already pinpoint what kind of atmosphere Bokuto Kotarou seems to like: homely, loud, and  _ warm _ .

Akaashi can’t help but think he looks even more exactly like his type, now that he’s wearing more formal clothes and his hair is a bit messier than it was last time. Bokuto must notice Akaashi’s stares from behind his beer, because his cheeks flush in the dim light of the izakaya.

“My grandma lives in Okinawa, I’ve been going there for summer vacation every summer since I was as tall as this,” Bokuto explains and he mimes how tall he must’ve been when he was a child. “I’ve known the owner of the place since before he opened the restaurant. Do you…” he pauses, a bit uncertain. “Do you like it?”

Akaashi shrugs, taking a bite of the yakitori himself. Bokuto orders some gyoza and more Orion for the both of them, though Akaashi still hasn’t drank all of his. “Yeah, it’s nice. I’ve never been, though I work in the area. I guess it never caught my eye.”

“Do you come here often? Tokyo Station, I meant. I never asked where you worked, last time. I know it’s in a gym, but-”

“Ah, yeah. It’s a few stops from here, fancy gym in Meguro. I live a bit farther away from the city center though. It was an old family house and dad didn’t want to sell it, so I commute.” He pauses and searches for something on Akaashi’s face with those big, golden eyes of his. “And I was a bit lucky today.”

Akaashi feels the corners of his lips pull up in a small smile before he can even realize. He ignores the cheesy statement and Bokuto’s intense stare, and looks away to the other side of the street. Salarymen dressed in black just like Akaashi move in groups, one of those groups is particularly loud as they hesitate at the intersection. They must be drunk, Akaashi figures as he drags his eyes from the green traffic light back to Bokuto.

“I was wondering, did Kuroo tell you about my sexuality?” Akaashi asks quite lightly but still a bit abruptly, taking another sip of beer and dragging one of his fingers on the surface of the table. He studies Bokuto’s reaction attentively, half enjoying Bokuto’s obvious buff body, half trying to understand whether Bokuto would be really up for what Akaashi has in mind for  _ after _ .

Bokuto, on the other hand, mirror’s Akaashi’s pose. He leans back a little on the stool, tilts his head to the side and taps his finger on the table. He smiles, a lot more natural and less embarrassed than what Akaashi’s seen so far. He looks  _ confident _ , Akaashi would say and  _ god  _ if confident looks good on Bokuto Kotarou.

“No, but you saved your number on my phone and were being strangely nice, last time,” he replies vaguely. “Then I asked Kuroo what he thought, and he said maybe you were interested.”

_ Maybe _ . 

Good guy Kuroo Tetsurou. 

Akaashi snorts, takes a long swig of beer and makes a small crackly noise with his throat when he finishes. “I  _ am  _ interested, Bokuto-san. And Kuroo figured it out before I asked for your number, actually.” 

Bokuto’s eyes go wide for a second, then he frowns and looks incredibly young for a moment. “He  _ lied _ to me? What an asshole, he’ll definitely hear from-”

“He just omitted info.” Akaashi specifies. He plays with the can of beer as he continues. “He technically outed you to me, though, so you could complain about that.”

Bokuto doesn’t hesitate, not even for a moment. “He’d never out me if he didn’t get a good impression from you. I can trust him on that, at least.” His voice takes a more severe, serious inflection as he speaks. “Plus, it’s not exactly a secret.  _ I _ am not exactly a secret.”

There’s a little pinch of something tugging at the back of Akaashi’s brain. It must be bitterness, maybe envy. He knows the feeling, but he doesn’t want it to take over. He doesn’t acknowledge it, so he simply looks away and tries to smile as convincing as possible as he smiles. “That’s nice,” he adds after a while.

The light at the intersection turns green again and more salarymen cross the street. People from inside the izakaya are toasting for something, so there’s a huge roar from the inside. Even Bokuto turns around and smiles unconsciously, finally meeting Akaashi’s eyes when he’s back to facing him.

“So, you’re interested, you were saying?”

Akaashi just smiles, intentionally looking at Bokuto as if to tell him a secret. He takes the last remaining sip of his beer, to the last drop, throwing his head back just slightly. Then he lowers it on the table, and slowly pushes the empty can towards Bokuto with the point of the index finger.

He’s done, they can go.

Bokuto flushes all of a sudden, struggling between looking at Akaashi and taking his wallet out. He stumbles on the way in, as Akaashi chuckles to himself, his head a little fuzzy from the alcohol.

Akaashi grabs his hand as they walk to the nearest love hotel. Bokuto looks like he could light up the sky all by himself as he squeezes it.

  
  


.

  
  


Akaashi barely sees the room, because he’s the one who’s kissing Bokuto first, pushing him inside the room with this whole body as he drapes himself on him. He doesn’t register how they get rid of their shoes, all he knows is what his lips are doing. Pushing Bokuto’s apart with his own, breathing a prolonged sigh into his mouth . Bokuto’s hands are on his hips, raking his shirt up, out of his trousers as he stumbles backwards towards the bed. His hands are warm with the fabric of Akaashi’s shirt separating them from Akaashi’s skin, even warmer when he finally presses them on the small of Akaashi’s back, holding him impossibly close.

Akaashi drags his tongue under Bokuto’s, around it; it’s wet and sensual, and everything Akaashi had imagined it would be. Bokuto deepens the kiss, finally managing to sit on the edge of the bed and letting Akaashi straddle him, pressing his crotch against his own. Akaashi groans, finally drawing his lips back and plainly looking at Bokuto for a moment.

“Hey,” Bokuto says, looking up at Keiji with a glimpse of embarrassment behind the gold of his eyes. “We’re really doing this, then?”

Akaashi breathes in, then out, then the breathing stutters into some laughter. He’d missed this, someone’s hands on his body, the warmth. No, the hotness of it. He nods once, twice. He takes Bokuto’s face in his hands, tilts it back and kisses him again, then drags his hands from Bokuto’s jaw down to his neck, then his shoulders and chest. He pushes their tongues together, fumbling with the buttons of Bokuto’s shirt because he  _ needs _ to touch him,  _ all of him _ . He holds on his bottom lip as he pushes Bokuto down on the mattress and finally manages to open the damn shirt.

Bokuto moans, low and guttural, when Akaashi pushes the other’s hands to his own hips and rolls down to get some friction, then presses his hand firmly on Bokuto’s stomach and drags it lower, before throwing himself down again to drag his tongue over the roof of Bokuto’s palate, on the gap between his lips and teeth. Bokuto doesn’t take his eyes off Akaashi, not even for a moment, not even when they’re kissing and he keeps them almost closed to the thinnest line. It’s intense and strangely intimate for two people who have barely met twice and have ended up in a love hotel. 

Bokuto doesn’t seem to care, and Akaashi’s mind is too taken up in the sensation of skin on skin to really process it.

Bokuto’s hands lightly graze at Akaashi’s lower back, each finger creating a burning line on its own, triggering shivers down Akaashi’s spine as he shakes, sucking up a breath and peeling himself off Bokuto for a moment, overwhelmed.

“Sorry,” he pants with a frown. Bokuto’s hand slides from his lower back to his thighs, hesitating as if to feel the fabric of his trousers. He shakes his head lightly.

Bokuto sits up, reaching with one hand to take Akaashi’s chin between his fingers. He stares at Akaashi’s eyes with those wild, golden eyes of his, as their noses bump together and they breathe each other’s shallow breaths. Akaashi’s breath stutters every now and then, like small sighs, when Bokuto leaves small kisses to the corner of his lips. One of Bokuto’s hands stops on the front of Akaashi’s pants, fingers spreading on the obvious strain there. He rubs it once, twice, and Akaashi makes a sound so desperate he’s not sure where it comes from, but Bokuto’s arm locks behind his back keeping him in place. Akaashi’s forehead ends up on Bokuto’s shoulder for a few moments.

Bokuto undoes the button of Akaashi’s jeans, then struggles with the zipper there because Akaashi keeps pressing himself against Bokuto almost instinctively, despite Bokuto’s attempt to keep him still. He manages to slide one hand in, between Akaashi’s pants and his boxers, cupping him there without pulling him out. It causes another of Akaashi’s moans to break quietly in Bokuto’s ears— Akaashi knows he’s burning up, his face red and his heart pounding in his chest, in his throat

Bokuto drags his palm up the length of Akaashi’s dick, the bottom of his palm catching on the fabric of Akaashi’s boxers, and Akaashi finds himself holding onto Bokuto’s shoulders as hard as he can as he moves in his hand.

“Turn me around,” he murmurs, but he’s the one peeling himself off Bokuto first, as Bokuto shifts back a little. “I— I’m gonna come if you don’t.”

“It’s alright, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto reassures him as he helps Akaashi’s back to rest against his chest, after Akaashi gets rid of his pants and lets them pool carelessly somewhere on the floor. 

Akaashi’s not necessarily used to having sex with people he barely knows, but he does sleep casually with people when he feels the urge to. This should be one of those times. Bokuto is exactly the type he usually goes for— big, buff, with a nice smile. It should be the same as the other times, yet he feels strangely self-conscious as Bokuto’s eyes burn holes through his skin staring at him. Akaashi goes to position himself— shoulder blades touching Bokuto’s chest, his lower back against Bokuto’s abdomen and breathes in, then out slowly.

There’s an obvious wet stain where his boxers bulge, and he probably wouldn’t care normally, but today he feels like he’s peeled off a layer of skin he usually keeps on as armor. 

He exhales slowly with a small, wheezing sound when Bokuto’s hand dips beneath the damp fabric of his boxers and he experimentally pumps him once, twice.

“Mmh-” he unconsciously moan, his hips moving into Bokuto’s hand. He can feel Bokuto’s erection digging into his back— briefly thinks he’s gonna have to do something about that, but the thought slips away from this mind as his gaze falls to Bokuto’s fingers curling around his dick. He throws his head back, his lips latching to a spot on Bokuto’s neck— it’ll leave a mark probably, he realizes, with something akin to pride appearing in some hidden corner of his chest.

He squeezes his eyes as he pants, his fingers gripping viciously onto Bokuto’s forearms, onto the sheets. He can’t see Bokuto’s hands anymore, but that’s probably why he feels every shift of movement more intensely, from the fingers lightly grazing his thigh, to the hand curled around his erection, hesitating around his head and keeping a steady rhythm.

It’s so much heat and pressure building up, Akaashi feels himself go incredibly tense gradually, Bokuto’s breath fanning on his forehead, just as shallow as his own. 

“C’mon, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto encourages him, low, a little rough at the edges, and Akaashi comes all over his stomach. He’s shaking when he buries his face in the crook of Bokuto’s shoulder, panting. 

Dislodging himself from Bokuto is a whole feat, but he manages, his breath still itchy in the back of his throat. Bokuto shifts a little, stiffly— there’s still an obvious strain in the front of his pants and a vein of expectancy pooling in his eyes.

“I’ll wash and be back,” Akaashi says as he distractedly bends to take his boxers off. “Don’t even think about leaving,” he hears himself saying without looking back. He doesn’t need to, because he knows Bokuto’s still watching him.

He hears chuckle behind his back. “Yeah. Don’t worry ‘Kaashi.”

  
.

They end up staying the night at the love hotel, which is something Akaashi usually doesn’t do. Staying the night implies a level of intimacy Akaashi’s not ready to acknowledge yet, which is why he’s always the first to leave, when he sleeps with someone. Whether he’ll contact those men again or not, it really depends on the case. Regardless, rule number one is to  _ never _ stay the night.

However Akaashi’s too dead tired to move at three am, when Bokuto’s head ends up on his shoulder as they watch tv, after doing it a few times and taking a bath together. Rule number one is to  _ never _ stay the night, but Akaashi figures he could make an exception with Bokuto Kotarou and his golden puppy eyes. He’s a friend of Konoha, after all. He tells himself that’s a good enough excuse, and falls asleep sometime around 4am, with the cold, dim light of the tv still lighting up the room.

When he wakes up, the morning after, the sky outside is still dark blue.  _ It must be early _ is the first thing he thinks, as he drowsily studies the silhouette of Bokuto sitting by the window— his face only partially reflecting the white light of his phone screen. 

“Bokuto-san,” he calls. His voice is still super groggy as he shifts under the duvet, putting his weight on one elbow trying to sit up.

Bokuto’s head turns to him immediately. “Oh? Already awake?”

Akaashi smiles a little, the fuzziness of his brain still making him a little softer, less sharp at the edges. “I could ask the same, Bokuto-san.”

“I usually go jogging at 6,” he explains. “I guess my body unconsciously wakes up at 6 everyday now.” He adds a small shrug at the end of the sentence, and it’s unexpectedly endearing. He puts his phone screen up on the small table by the window, then walks towards the bed slowly. He must’ve showered again; his hair is damp and he’s only wearing his boxers. 

“And you’re not jogging today, Bokuto-san?”

Another small chortle follows Akaashi’s question. “Nah, not today. But I mean,” he hesitates, looking down. He stops in front of the bed, then frowns a little, alternating glances between Akaashi and the rest of the room. “...I mean, unless you want me to go, of course.”

Akaashi’s always the first to leave, when it comes to one night stands. Not that he throws himself in that many of them, but when it happens, he’s always the first to leave. Bokuto’s questions makes him roll his eyes internally, because he’s breaking all of the rules, one by one. 

“No, Bokuto-san. We can leave later, when we go to work,” he concedes. Bokuto fidgets a bit more, until he finally climbs on the bed with his knee— the mattress dips a little, but he manages to lie down not too close but not too far from Akaashi. 

“Can I?” he asks, and for a moment Akaashi is a bit confused, seeing Bokuto’s hand hovering close to his head. Then he understands, and nods lightly. 

“Yeah, go on.” Rule number two:  _ never cuddle _ .

Bokuto’s arm locks around Akaashi’s shoulder and he pulls him a bit closer to himself until Akaashi’s head is resting in the crook of his neck. Bokuto’s so warm he could be a big, portable furnace and Akaashi is not so different from his cats— he loves everything warm. Akaashi figures a bit of snuggling won’t hurt, just for today. A treat for himself. A treat for what, though, he’s not sure.

He decides not to care.

“You can sleep a bit more, ‘Kaashi. I set an alarm.”

Akaashi nods again, his thoughts getting all jumbled up around the way Bokuto keeps pronouncing his name. He only half realizes Bokuto’s turned on the tv and muted it, as he falls asleep again and promises himself this is a one time thing. 

.

It’s definitely not a one time thing.

They meet again, at least a few more times, and it’s not always Bokuto calling him— Akaashi tells himself he reaches for Bokuto because he’s nice and hot, so there’s that.

They always arrange to meet at Tokyo station after work. Sometimes they go get something to eat or drink, then head to the closest love hotel. Other times, when they meet later than usual and they really can’t be bothered to drink, they directly head to the hotel and start taking their clothes off before they even get on the bed.

Akaashi’s not used to having a partner, and even less used to have a…  _ something  _ with someone. Despite hardly contacting each other outside of those few encounters, seeing the same guy and sleeping with him more than twice with no other partners in between is definitely  _ something _ , and it’s a first for Akaashi and his countless rules about sex. It makes him uneasy to think about it, because no matter how hard he tries to tell himself that what he has with Bokuto can’t be called a  _ relationship _ , that whatever it is has to end it before it gets worse than it already is, when his phone chimes and it’s a message from Bokuto he  _ really _ can’t say no.

He knows he should. Say no, that is. He’s breaking all of the rules he set for himself, one after the other, time and time again. He doesn’t know if it’s partially because he would feel bad rejecting Bokuto and seeing him as down as he was on the first night they met, or if it’s just out of pure physical attraction. It’s definitely one of the two, because Akaashi knows himself, and he’s good at handling his own emotions and keeping them at bay.  _ The best _ .

It’s been weeks since their first encounter, and Akaashi doesn’t need to check his phone to know who it is. It’s a lazy, gloomy Saturday. Akaashi’s been lethargic all morning— he almost forgot to feed the cats, if it wasn’t that Altair presented his joyous asshole to his face meowing loudly and he had to force himself out of bed and feed him and Vega. There’s nothing on tv either, but Akaashi left it on with the volume very low, just to have something keeping him company aside from the cats.

His phone chimes again before Akaashi can sprawl himself on the sofa and take it from the small table on the left. Two messages in a row: it’s either Bokuto, or Akaashi’s mom. Akaashi thinks Bokuto’s the more likely culprit of the two, and it is.

_ Wanna meet with me and Kuroo for dinner? _

_ He knows we’ve been meeting. _

Akaashi had no doubt Kuroo knew, because Bokuto doesn’t look like the type to keep friendships to himself. He wants to hope he omitted accounts of the blowjobs, but he has no intention to ask, so he’s going to trust him on that.

He replies with a simple  _ Sure! Where? _ and throws his phone to the end of the sofa again. He groans as he stretches, and Vega slowly climbs on his sternum only to sit there and look at him with her huge green eyes, with a somewhat reproachful gaze. “What. He’s nice, Vega. Don’t look at me that way.”

The cat doesn’t react much, only her ears twitch a little, and he turns her head to Altair, jumping to join the cuddle pile on the sofa. “Did you call for reinforcements? I tell you guys, this one won’t be like the dude who wanted me to get rid of you.”

_ That one hadn’t lasted very long anyway _ , Akaashi thinks, as he sinks his hand in Vega’s fur, while Altair sits all alert and majestic on the backrest. His phone chimes again. Akaashi sighs, sitting up. Vega jumps off his lap and wanders away, offended. 

“His friend’s an asshole though,” he informs Altair as he takes his phone back from the corner of the sofa. Altair meows one of his loud, annoying meows, and Akaashi nods. “And his face looks a bit like yours.”

He unlocks his phone. Bokuto’s sent him the location, along with a selfie from the riverside in Meguro. There’s not even cherry blossoms, but the gloomy sky behind him looks particularly pretty, blending a little with the white-ish gray of Bokuto’s hair.

Akaashi’s expression doesn’t change much as he looks at the pic, but there’s the shadow of the smallest smile at the corner of his lip as when he looks up to meet Altair’s powder blue eyes. 

“So, lunch!” He announces, and Altair’s already behind him, ready to steal a couple extra treats.

.

Today must be one of those days when Bokuto’s  _ down _ . Akaashi doesn't know how he knows exactly, but a glance at Bokuto standing near the exit of the subway in Ueno is enough for him.

A group of girls walks past Bokuto, giggling, followed by a couple businessmen. That’s when Bokuto finally looks up and notices Akaashi climbing up the stairs. He waves a little less enthusiastically than usual, and Akaashi internally smiles to himself:  _ down day _ .

“Hey, Bokuto-san.” 

“‘Kaashi, you’re early,” Bokuto comments as he pulls himself away from the wall. “Kuroo’s late, but he says he wants curry.”

Akaashi nods a couple times. “Curry’s fine for me.” 

It’s raining, so the asphalt glistens when cars pass and the air feels heavy with heat all over again, despite it being September. Akaashi opens his clear plastic umbrella, and before he can attempt to position it so it covers the both of them, Bokuto takes it and smiles a little.

“I forgot it was raining,” he explains, as he runs his fingers through his damp hair. “But I never carry an umbrella with me anyway.”

“Don’t catch a cold, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says. It’s just empty words, really, but Bokuto seems to appreciate them a lot, because he smiles a bit wider. He circles Akaashi shoulders with one arm, when they’re crossing the street— he can feel Bokuto’s body heat through the fabric of his clothes. They’ve been closer than this, yet the simple gesture feels unfamiliar and comfortable at the same time.

“I was kinda down, earlier. I don’t like the rain.” Bokuto explains, guiding Akaashi through the sea of people crowding the intersection. Akaashi’s not used to being pampered, so he lets him do whatever he wants. Bokuto is very spontaneous in touching Akaashi, and Akaashi would be lying if he said it didn’t feel nice.

“You do look like the kind of person who likes the sun the most.”

“I like snow the most, but that’s mostly because I’m a big kid and I like to play with it.”

And Akaashi can picture it clearly, Bokuto and probably Kuroo starting a snowball fight in the neighborhood park, probably getting involved with the other kids playing there. “Do you also make snowmen?”

Bokuto’s eyes grow wide, as he looks at Akaashi in disbelief. “Of course I do! I’m the best at making snowmen Akaashi, what did you take me for? Maybe let’s make one together next time, shall we?” He sounds so enthusiastic about it that Akaashi’s taken aback for a moment. “Kuroo sucks at making them, you know?”   


“That sounds like Kuroo-san.” Akaashi knows he’s avoiding the first invitation, but winter is months away, and he doesn’t feel like making empty plans. The possibility of him still seeing Bokuto in the winter are close to none anyway. If Bokuto notices, he doesn’t comment on it. He just points at the Cococurry sign, across the street. In front of the entrance, Kuroo with his usually impossible hair and someone at least a head shorter than him standing next to Kuroo while looking at their phone.

“Shit, he brought Kenma,” is all Bokuto says.

Akaashi’s eyes hesitate on the way Kuroo’s head bumps that of the guy next to him, trying to take a peek at his phone and realizes two things: the first, that must be Kuroo’s boyfriend. The one he mentioned last time at the izakaya. The second, is that both him and Bokuto got tricked into something that looks terribly like a double date.

.

“This isn’t a double date, I swear,” Kuroo starts once they give the waiter back the menu and they’re met with silence at the table. They sat in the back of the restaurant, which is not too packed, considering it’s pouring outside. The restaurant lights are warm and the whole atmosphere is cozy thanks to the interior entirely made of wood. “Kenma said he didn’t mind curry and I haven’t seen him a lot this week, so…”

“You definitely said it was a double date.” The guy, Kenma, murmurs next to him, with no care in the world. He just lightly looks at Kuroo with the corner of his eyes, before going back to his phone, focused one some rhythm game he’s playing. 

“Don’t out me to the enemy, Kenma,” Kuroo mutters immediately after. When he turns to meet Bokuto’s and Akaashi’s stares, he’s grinning like a cheshire cat. “No, really, though. Don’t think too much of it.”

Akaashi definitely  _ doesn’t _ like Kuroo.

Kenma’s not exactly how Akaashi would have pictured Kuroo’s boyfriend. He thought he’d date someone similar to Bokuto, all smiles and sunshine. Kenma has big, big cat-like eyes that are alert and expressive. His hair is cut short in an undercut and black but for some blond at the tips, probably some old hair dye he was slowly getting rid of. He’s wearing clothes that don’t look like they fit him properly, maybe a bit too big, under a military green bomber jacket. Akaashi can clearly see he’s pretty, but he can’t help but wonder what he’s doing next to a character like Kuroo.

“You could’ve just told me, you know,” Bokuto frowns. “Mostly because I feel like I tricked Akaashi into this, now.” Bokuto looks away, biting his bottom lip. His hand taps on the table a couple times. He’s clearly bothered by the situation, worried about what Akaashi will think, probably. It’s cute, in its own way.

“It’s ok. I don’t mind,” Akaashi reassures him, touching his forearm lightly. He can feel Kuroo’s eyes on them— he’s evaluating the situation quietly and that’s enough for Akaashi to know that Kuroo’s way more perceptive than he lets out to be. “Plus Kuroo-san mentioned Kozume-san last time, at the izakaya. It’s nice to be meeting him”

Kenma looks up from his phone, finally putting it aside. His eyes stop on Akaashi for a couple moments, then shift towards Kuroo. “I’m sorry,” he says, and given the almost imperceptible vein of apology in his voice he seems to mean it. “I did kind of want curry, so I auto-invited myself. It’s also nice to meet you, Akaashi-san.”

Kuroo kicks Bokuto under the table, which has Bokuto jump a little, then kick back. “What?”

“See? They get along. Kenma likes him.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m your pet, Kuro,” Kenma comments lightly, but he’s pouting just a little bit. Kuroo keeps glancing at him sideways. In one way or the other, his attention is on Kenma; it’s hard to miss. He shows him the tip of his tongue playfully, but Kenma doesn’t really react to it. He seems used to Kuroo being the kind of person to joke about pretty much anything, at least on the surface. What’s beneath that surface, Akaashi can’t tell clearly.

“So, how many cats do you have, Akaashi?” Kuroo asks, one arm on the backrest of Kenma’s seat as he leans back on his own chair. Akaashi’s taken aback for a moment. He never mentioned it to Bokuto and neither he did on that day. Unless Konoha told him, or…His surprise must’ve shown on his face, because Kuroo starts chuckling by himself.

Bokuto, next to Akaashi, looks even more confused than Akaashi is. “Do you have a cat, ‘Kaashi?”

“He does, doesn’t he?” Kuroo keeps going around his chuckle.

“You have a few cat hairs on your sleeves, Akaashi-san,” Kenma points out quietly, leaning forward just a little. “I guess that’s how Kuroo noticed.” 

And indeed, Akaashi’s sleeves do have some cat hair on them. Altair had wanted some extra cuddles while Akaashi was tying his shoes at the entrance, and that’s how the hair got there.

“So, how many do you have?” Kuroo insists, tilting his head to one side. 

“Two. One of them kinda looks like you, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo looks surprised for a moment, then he looks at Kenma and laughs out loud. “No shit, now I wanna see him. Do you have photos?” 

“We have cats too, three of them,” Kenma adds, playing with the ends of his hoodie sleeves; Akaashi wonders if he isn’t wearing Kuroo’s clothes after all. “Two we rescued together, one that Kuroo found out in a ditch somewhere. He’s the smallest of the three.” 

“Wow, you never mentioned cats, ‘Kaashi.” Bokuto intervenes, right when they’re brought their curry. “I would’ve told you about these two’s. They’re like cat boys, the two of them.” He passes a spoon, fork and knife to Akaashi, then digs into his rice as he keeps talking. “Their cats don’t like me too much. The smallest one’s cute though. He likes my hair, right Kuroo?”

“Yeah, the other two are super territorial. But I’m the cat whisperer, so every cat loves me. Even Kenma, here.” 

Akaashi and Kenma make the same exact face, something in between half gagging and half annoyed. Bokuto snorts, then smiles a bit more when Akaashi meets his eyes. 

“Here, kitten.” Kuroo says in a whisper. He clearly doesn’t want the other two to hear him intentionally, but Akaashi does anyway. Kuroo gives Kenma most of the potatoes in his curry plate, then proceeds to take out all of the carrots from Kenma’s. It’s a bit too intimate for Akaashi to see, so he looks down first, then his gaze slides to Bokuto.

“They’ve been together for a while,” Bokuto explains, as if trying to justify what Akaashi just saw. “You get used to Kuroo being all lovey dovey after a while.”

Akaashi wonders if that’s what’s beneath the rough surface of all of Kuroo’s jokes. If he’s sweet all the time he’s not being an idiot or an observant asshole. Akaashi shows the others pictures of Altair and Vega as they eat, and they all agree Altair with a pissed off face looks exactly like Kuroo. 

.

It’s stopped raining by the time they exit the restaurant, but the main road is less crowded than it was when they arrived. Kuroo and his boyfriend Kenma stay a little behind, and Akaashi can hear them whisper about some game Kenma is playing on his phone— Kuroo seems to be given him directions Kenma doesn’t look like he needs. 

Bokuto’s unusually quiet as he walks next to Akaashi with his nose up to the sky. He doesn’t look as down as he was when they met at the subway station, but Akaashi’s not sure what changed, aside from the fact that it’s not raining anymore. 

“Oi, Bokuto,” Kuroo calls from behind them. When they turn around, Kuroo has one arm around Kenma’s shoulder, and he’s leaning into him a little. “We’re gonna head back first. You mind?”

“Oh,” Bokuto comments, and it sounds like he would want to add much more to that, but he seems to hold back. Akaashi wonders if Kuroo’s not just trying to leave the two of them alone, as if he thinks they need an excuse to be left alone. “Alright. You guys can go first, then,” Bokuto concludes. He almosts sounds shy, as if him and Akaashi hadn’t spent time on their own quite often. Akaashi can’t help but stare at him for a second too long, before turning back to Kuroo and Kenma and bow slightly.

“It was nice to meet you, Kozume-san,” he says when he’s straightened himself up. “Kuroo-san too.”

“It’s Kenma. Can we come see your cats, eventually?” There’s a certain type of quiet latching to everything Kenma, the kind of quiet that hides a small turbulent ocean within. “You can meet ours too, Keiji.”

The mentions of the cat, the use of his first name, they pull at Akaashi’s lips immediately, and without him realizing he’s smiling. “Yes, of course,” he assures. It’s only half a lie, after all. He wouldn’t mind them seeing his cats, eventually. If that _ eventually  _ will ever turn true, though, is a whole other story.  _ Depends _ should’ve been the answer. Depends on how long he’ll keep seeing Bokuto, depends on how many more times he’ll see the two of them.

Kenma being the perceptive person Akaashi thinks he is, probably caught on Akaashi’s uncertainty. Yet he doesn’t say anything, and him and Kuroo seem to be happy with Akaashi’s reply. They wave before walking in the opposite direction.

Bokuto’s still quiet as they keep walking with no precise destination in mind. They both know how the night will go, because they’ve rehearsed it plenty of times already. They’ll walk a bit, then probably stop to drink something at the first open izakaya they see. Then they’ll go to a love hotel and spend the night there. Bokuto will leave a bit later in the morning and he’ll skip jogging to sleep next to Akaashi some more. Sometimes they have morning sex in the shower, some others it’s in the sheets. It depends on what Bokuto proposes. It  _ always _ depends on what Bokuto wants.

“I’m sorry for today,” Bokuto starts all of a sudden, his face turning just slightly to look at Akaashi’s profile. “I didn’t expect him to bring Kenma at all. I…” He hesitates with an embarrassed chuckle. “I thought it was just gonna be the three of us, but I’m assuming he didn’t want to...you know…”

“He didn’t want to third wheel?” Akaashi helps. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t take that into account. Sorry.” There he is again with the apology. His hand brushes Akaashi’s at his hip, but he doesn’t catch it. Akaashi’s not sure what he expects Bokuto to do, what he  _ wants  _ Bokuto to do.

“It was fun, Bokuto-san. I had fun, that’s what’s important,” he repeats. “I liked Kozum- Kenma. He’s nice. And Kuroo-san too when he’s not being an obnoxious prick.” Bokuto laughs at that, crouching on himself. 

“Kuroo can be a handful but he’s a good guy, you can take my word for that.” Bokuto breathes in after that, then stretches his arms over his head. “He’s a good friend. And Kenma too, actually. I’d love if they became your friends as well, you know? I feel like they’d enjoy your company a lot if...they saw more of you, that is.”

Akaashi can feel it clearly, Bokuto’s tone going from waves of enthusiasm to hesitation. It makes him ache to a level he didn’t know he could ache for someone who wasn’t his family. He’s only known Bokuto for a few weeks, but the guy is  _ good _ . He’s probably the nicest guy Akaashi’s ever slept with, which is why Akaashi should probably back off before ruining it more than necessary.

Saying the words he says after that is painful, because he knows despite Bokuto being ok with their arrangement, he was hoping for something more: introducing his friends, hanging around at dawn and kissing Akaashi senseless before saying goodbye. Bokuto wants a relationship, and Akaashi would give him anything.  _ Anything _ . But  _ a relationship, _ he can’t give Bokuto that.

“I’d love to see more of them too,” he says, biting down on the corner of his lip. “I mean, I can still see them, with the arrangement we have being this way. I don’t mind.”

_ You can keep parading me to your friends like your last fuck, I don’t mind, _ is what it sounds to Akaashi. He doesn’t know what Bokuto reads into it, but his smile is a lot faker than the ones Akaashi’s used to. “Oh, of course,” he says. He tries to sound reassuring, but it feels like he’s trying to reassure himself rather than Akaashi.

“I mean, we’re not dating, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi repeats more clearly. “I like spending time with you a lot, and sex with you is great but that’s about it.”

Bokuto nods once, twice. He understands, but Akaashi can see whatever his small glimpse of hope was, being crushed under the weight of Akaashi’s words. “I know, ‘Kaashi. I just wanted you to meet my friends, that’s all. I’m happy you like ‘em.”

Bokuto doesn’t even look down, after the exchange. He keeps walking as if nothing happened, smiles to Akaashi with the same affection he’s shown the past month. Akaashi feels like the villain in a romantic comedy. He should break it off, end it before they both end up hurt, but he keeps hanging on it for some reason, latching on it like a desperate man. 

So he lies to himself, plays pretend that Bokuto’s ok with being fuck buddies.

He said he is, after all. Akaashi can ignore the rest, right?

“So, anywhere in mind for tonight?” Bokuto asks after a while.

They end up sleeping together as usual, but Akaashi feels so out of synch he can’t get into it at all. His brain is too loud, louder than Bokuto’s breath in his ear and stronger than his touch on Akaashi’s skin. Bokuto dozes off in his favorite position, with his head on Akaashi’s rib cage and one of his legs entangled. He’s warm, like a human sized furnace. Akaashi studies his face for a long time, from the small almost invisible scar on his forehead to the way his lips part when he breathes out. 

He holds onto Akaashi like Akaashi’s his.

Akaashi wishes he could just throw away his life, family and responsibility and take all of him.

.

“So you were like, tricked into this double date?”

“Basically, yeah.” 

Both Konoha and Akaashi are standing in line at the Starbucks in the basement of their office for lunch break. Konoha’s precariously balancing a tray with a green weird looking bagel and his extra sugary coffee while Akaashi passes the cashier his card after quickly ordering his coffee and paying for his toast. 

“Bokuto-san wouldn’t stop apologizing for the whole night, so I doubt it was intentional on his part,” Akaashi concedes as they wait to the side of the counter for Akaashi’s coffee to be ready. “But it did feel like I was tricked into it, so I guess he owed me an apology.”

They quickly move towards an empty table, Konoha still balancing his tray and Akaashi simply holding his coffee in one hand and toast in the other. The coffee shop is quite crowded and, much to Konoha and Akaashi’s  _ joy _ , all of the people sitting at the tables are their coworkers. Akaashi hates lunch in the office underground mall, but what can he do.

“But can you really say he didn’t expect it at all? I mean, I’ve known Kuroo Tetsurou for a while now, definitely less than Bokuto-san’s known him and I can tell he’s not gonna third wheel.” Konoha looks at Akaashi’s face as he sits and takes a sip of his coffee. “Like, not even remotely gonna third wheel. And you can’t tell me the possibility wasn’t there to begin with.”

He’s not wrong. Akaashi thought the same during the whole double-date thing, but it doesn’t really matter now. In retrospect he had fun, and even if Bokuto had expected Kuroo to bring Kenma along in a double date, knowing him he’d probably just trusted Kuroo not to do it. 

“Well, you’re not wrong.” He starts, his gaze taking a panoramic of the restaurant before he takes a bite of his eggs and bacon toast. He shrugs, then. “I don’t know, Bokuto-san is very hard to not to forgive. My homicidal instincts kick in more with Kuroo-san.”

Konoha laughs a bit at that, and he’s still smiling when he speaks again, his mouth half full with the sandwich. “I think everyone’s wanted to kill Kuroo at least once in their life. I have, for example.” He says with such pride in his voice that it’s a bit ridiculous. A small silence follows, and Konoha’s eyes go down to his coffee. He looks like he’s hesitating to say something, which doesn’t happen often with him. “But so...I mean. Is Kuroo-san also…?”

Oh. That’s where the question is going. There’s only a few people among Akaashi’s friends who know about him being gay. The coming out with Konoha had been extremely hard and scary, Konoha not only being a friend but also a colleague. Konoha himself had been surprised at first, and he’s probably still hesitant to bring the topic out directly.

“Yeah, he’s gay,” Akaashi replies simply, lowering his voice so that only Konoha hears him. “His boyfriend’s this pretty little wild thing. Looks like a cat.”

Konoha furrows his brows for a second, leaning into the table as he asks, “Kozume Kenma?”

Akaashi’s the one to be surprised now. He hadn’t expected Kuroo to introduce Kenma as something other than his boyfriend. “Yeah, you didn’t know he was his boyfriend?”

Konoha shakes his head, and Akaashi bites on the tip of his tongue for accidentally outing them. “Nope. They’ve been friends forever as far as I know,” Konoha comments. He doesn’t seem to care that much, but then again he’s probably not that close with Kenma.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” Akaashi confirms, remembering Kuroo’s words about Kuroo and Kenma having dated for a while. “Kuroo is unexpectedly sweet with him, I was a bit taken aback,” he adds without really thinking about it. “He looks like the type to sleep with someone different every day, but he looked surprisingly dedicated.”

Konoha chuckles in response, eyeing Akaashi with a certain mischievousness to his eyes. “What, are you jealous, Keiji?”

It stings, and Akaashi frowns, then shakes his head immediately. He proceeds to take one more bite from his sandwich and one long sip of coffee, hoping Konoha wouldn’t notice how he hit the nail on the head. “No, well… It looked nice,” he murmurs.

The amusement on Konoha’s feature is so obvious that it pisses Akaashi off. “I thought you didn’t have a partner because you don’t want one, Akaashi?” he teases, the bastard. Akaashi stoically maintains his usual neutral expression, but he’d gladly kick him under the table. “What happened to the whole ‘I’m not lonely, I’m alone’ speech? Flushed down the toilet?” Konoha chuckles some more, shaking his head as if to reprimand Akaashi teasingly. “I can’t believe all you needed was for Bokuto Kotarou to appear.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He knows really well, but he’s not going to give Konoha the satisfaction of being right about this. “It’s not because of him, it could’ve been anyone else, really.” 

Konoha snorts. Akaashi’s half-assed lies are never going to convince him. But Akaashi tries, as he plays with the ice inside his glass with the end of his straw.

“Plus it’s not like I don’t  _ want _ a relationship” he explains. “It’s more complicated than that. I mean, you know...it’s not as easy as it looks from the other side, Konoha.” Akaashi looks up, searching for Konoha’s eyes, the he breathes out a sigh. “My family expects things and me coming here to Tokyo was just a way to...temporarily escape those things.”

He can feel it, the way Konoha starts feeling bad. His eyebrows do that thing they always do when he gets sad, and they arch inwards.

“I just think it would make you happy, that’s all.” Good boy Konoha, always worrying for this friends. Akaashi smiles a bit, tilting his head a bit and nudging Konoha’s shin with the point of his shoe under the table.

“Hey, who says I’m not happy,” he complains. He makes sure his voice sounds cheerful, so that Konoha stops doing the eyebrow things and goes back at being the usual idiot Konoha he knows. “I’m perfectly happy, you know?” 

“Yeah, but who would say no to some extra happy?” Konoha pouts for a couple seconds, before somehow shaking the sadness off and straightening himself up. He’s as good as new. “But anyway! So, is your sister of age yet?”

“Kotoko’s not even eighteen yet.” Akaashi makes a grimace, pretending to shiver out of disgust. “Creepy.” He adds. He’s used to Konoha joking about marrying Kotoko, though he’s ten years older than her and he’s not really interested.

“Just kidding, just kidding.” And he is really kidding, luckily. “It’s just funny to see you all protective of your little sister, sister complex much?”

Akaashi’s snort follows, “I’m just making sure you don’t go all creepy old man on my little sister, you creep.”

“Mean.”

They stay in silence for a while, as they finish their sandwich and coffee, then chat about work for a while until Konoha catches Akaashi’s attention again as they stand up to leave. “Are you meeting Bokuto-san again,after work?” 

It takes a couple seconds for Akaashi to process the question.  _ Probably _ would be the correct answer, if Akaashi wasn’t still feeling off from last time. He’s not sure he’s ready to face Bokuto again. Not yet at least.

“Mmh, probably not. The weather’s shitty and he doesn’t like the rain.” It’s a little white lie, Konoha probably won’t even notice. “Plus I think I’m coming down with a cold.” That one’s not a lie at least.

As expected, Konoha doesn’t notice. “Oh, that sucks,” he says. After that, they head back to the office.

.

It’s another rainy evening, except that rainy evenings at rush hour are Akaashi’s worst nightmare. The crowd on the train platform moves slowly, like an agonizing monster— umbrellas sticking one to the other resemble a neverending shield against the droplets coming in sideways because of the wind. This continues until the speakers announce a train incoming to the platform, and that’s when the collective hysteria starts. The slow, agonizing monster starts to squirm, as people try to hurry close to yellow line that signals the end of the platform. 

A couple passersby bump into Akaashi, making him lose the grip on his umbrella. They don’t turn back to apologize and Akaashi finds himself wondering if he and Bokuto shouldn’t maybe find another place to meet. The station is too hectic. Hell, he’s not even sure why they meet on the platform when Bokuto comes on foot. 

The train stops at the tracks, the doors open and people on the platform swarm in chaotically, until almost nobody’s left behind. Akaashi stops by one of the vending machines, swipes his card on the reader and pushes the button for a coffee. There’s a loud noise when the can falls down and Akaashi slowly crouches to take it out.

People start to gather on the platform again, as other train approaches. This time nobody bumps into him, and he quietly opens the can of warm coffee as he takes a look at his wristwatch, then up again.

Bokuto’s late, which doesn’t happen often. 

They usually arrive at the same time on opposite platforms or on the same one Akaashi’s on this time. Bokuto greets him big and enthusiastic, Akaashi usually responds with a small wave of his hand. Today Akaashi’s been waiting for a while already, and there has been no sign of Bokuto. His phone is off too.

Akaashi is a rational person, so he’s not thinking of improbable accidents or unforeseeable calamities. He just wonders if Bokuto forgot they had to meet— weird, given Bokuto’s dedication to everything, but not impossible. Akaashi realizes it would make him a little sad if Bokuto forgot, as he puffs in some air and glances up at the red, cloudy sky of Tokyo.

He notices Bokuto only after everyone else on the platform has left with the last train, and he notices because Bokuto’s running towards him, which has never happened before. 

“‘Kaashi!” He calls, loud enough for everyone else to hear. A couple people on the platform look at this disheveled, big guy running somewhere people shouldn’t run, but they go back to minding their own business almost immediately. Akaashi doesn’t mind them. What he minds is that Bokuto’s completely drenched in rain, even worse than last time he’d met him for the appointment with Kuroo and Kenma. 

He looks a bit pitiful, to be honest. The light grey hoodie he’s wearing has darkened to a very deep, dark grey color, and his shoes would probably squeak every time he takes a step if Akaashi listened more carefully. It’s pretty chilly today, and Bokuto’s only wearing gym shorts. His hair— half silver, half black are sticking flat to his forehead. A few droplets gather between his eyelashes, Akaashi notices when Bokuto’s close enough and taking a breath, both hands on his thighs.

“Bokuto-san, you… why are you completely soaked with rain?” Akaashi knows he’s asking the obvious question. Bokuto didn’t have an umbrella last time, he said he doesn’t carry one. For all Akaashi knows he might just walk in the rain all the time.

“It’s raining, ‘Kaashi. Even you have an umbrella,” Bokuto pants out. “I’m sorry I’m late, Oikawa— remember the guy with an injured knee, he’s a friend of both me, Kuroo and maybe Konoha too. He kept me a little longer, I-”

“It’s fine, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto looks pitiful, all soaked like a big owl with his big golden eyes, and he looks so damn exhausted it can’t help but pull at Akaashi heart. It’s just a little pull, a nudge? But it’s definitely there. He can feel it clearly. 

“Shall we go, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi prompts, still holding his can of coffee. It’s warm beneath his fingertips. “Oh I...want some coffee? To warm you up a little.” He offers a small smile, but Bokuto nods once, enthusiastically.

“That’ll be great,” he says. His eyes hesitate on the open can just for the most fleeting of moments, but Akaashi notices it.

“I didn’t drink from it,” he says, as if they hadn’t kissed countless of times, shared baths and bedsheets. He feels self conscious after realizing it, so he looks away, towards the train tracks. 

Bokuto snorts softly, shaking his head. “I don’t care, ‘Kaashi. Thank you,” he sticks under Akaashi’s umbrella, then offers to take both the can of coffee and the umbrella, despite him being more or less the same height as Akaashi. “I thought you’d left, Akaashi. I was so happy to see you waited. My phone died and Oikawa has been having a bit of a shitty time with his physio and all.”

Akaashi passes Bokuto the umbrella without thinking about it. “Of course I waited for you.” 

Their fingers touch, grazing just lightly; Bokuto’s hands are freezing, and so is his hoodie. His relief is even more obvious now, in the way that he curls into the can of warm coffee. Akaashi can’t stop thinking about what they always do. They meet, go drink something, then go to some fancy love motel since they both have enough money to afford a decent one. They have sex, cuddle. They say their goodbyes in the morning. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

He only distractedly hears Bokuto talking about Oikawa Tooru, his friend from highschool and his client at the gym now. His brain is still stuck on how cold Bokuto’s fingers felt under his— Bokuto’s hands are always warm, he’s a blazing flame. That coldness feels wrong. 

Maybe Akaashi’s been doing it all wrong from the start. Maybe Konoha’s right, and he  _ would _ be happier if he broke yet another rule. “Bokuto-san,” he interrupts whatever Bokuto’s blabbering about as they walk down the stairs from the station. They shouldn’t need the umbrella, but Bokuto doesn’t close it, his eyes on Akaashi and his mouth still agape from when he was talking. “I’m sorry I-”  _ It’s now or never. _ Akaashi’s eyes hesitate on Bokuto’s hand, curled around the white handle of the plastic umbrella. 

“Bokuto-san, shall we go to my place tonight, instead?”

Akaashi could swear Bokuto lights up like a thousand million fireworks, and Akaashi heart beats a little faster in the rhythm of their explosion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been written for a while, but I was too busy to publish it so yeah, sorry for being this late çç  
> Enjoy some more Bokuaka fluff and lots of cats!

Akaashi notices they’ve been holding hands all the way to his apartment only when he’s forced to let Bokuto’s hand go, to insert the door code and open the door. It’s not a big detail or anything, they’ve held hands before. It still makes Akaashi’s heart trip on its steady rhythm when it happens, but in all honesty is nothing special at all. 

Holding hands is not something Akaashi’s done with other of his lovers, that’s all. As he enters the house— the light of the foyer going on, the rest of the house still completely dark, and he feels Bokuto’s presence next to him, he starts wondering if he called the other guys he slept with before Bokuto his  _ lovers _ .

He didn’t, most likely. He can’t recall.

“‘Kaashi?” Bokuto calls him, breaking his train of thought. Akaashi looks for him with the corner of his eye and realizes Bokuto’s looking at something else in the room. 

“Your cat really looks like Kuroo.”

Altair doesn’t like Bokuto. 

Altair hardly likes anyone, but he seems to really dislike Bokuto. He hisses when Bokuto tries to pet him, which has Bokuto look up at Akaashi with a pair of huge puppy eyes and a pout while he’s sitting on the floor cross legged. 

“He doesn’t like humans in general. He’s a little shit with my sister too,” Akaashi explains distractedly as he puts his coat away along with Bokuto’s drenched hoodie— the throws that one in the washer and mentally notes to remember about it. Without it, Bokuto’s only wearing a white t-shirt that is miraculously dry enough. “Are you sure you don’t want something to change to?”

“Oh, I mean-” Bokuto makes a face, looks at Akaashi, then at Altair as the cat jumps on the sofa. His face says  _ I thought we would be naked by now _ , and Akaashi has to agree. “It’s nice we have the same size more or less. Yeah, I’d like some clothes.”

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi replies instead, more in response to the face Bokuto made than anything else. He doesn’t look at him, instead he disappears in the bedroom to look for clothes that could fit Bokuto’s arms. 

He fishes a black hoodie he’s not sure when he bought, along with some pants from the bottom of his wardrobe, then briefly looks around in his room: on the bed, and on the cat castle. He frowns.

Then there’s a couple of very manly squeals coming from the living room and Akaashi just knows that Vega must’ve gone to meet the guest.

“Oh my god he’s so floofy ‘Kaashi!!”

“It’s a she. Her name is Vega.”

He puts the clothes on the sofa in the middle of the living room, then leans against the back of the sofa, a bit amused and a bit pissed off that his cat is stealing all of Bokuto’s attention. Vega’s sniffs Bokuto’s fingertips cautiously, then lets him pet her back, tail up, only the end swishing slightly.

“I tend to like birds more, but your cats are cool. I mean, she’s cool. I don’t like Kuroo’s clone over there.” Altair doesn’t give a shit. He’s already conquered his usual spot on the sofa and probably decided to ignore Bokuto for the rest of the night.

“This is” Bokuto starts, a vein of shyness or embarrassment back in his voice. He searches for Akaashi’s gaze warily, as if he’s not sure what kind of expression Akaashi’s going to make. “..Different.” 

As he stands up, Vega rubs against one of his legs from her head to the point of her tail, marking the territory, then disappears in the bedroom again. “From the usual, I mean.”   


It is different. Akaashi knows it is, but it was raining and Bokuto looked exhausted. And  _ maybe _ Akaashi’s tired of meeting in hotels where there’s never traces of the two of them left, after they say goodbye. “Yeah. You mind?”

Bokuto shakes his head. He takes off his t-shirt in one swift movement— Akaashi stares, he can’t help but. Bokuto doesn’t seem to notice as he reaches for the hoodie Akaashi found for him and puts it on quickly, distractedly. Akaashi had never realized he could be this attractive, though he saw him strip his clothes off more and more times.

“No, I don’t mind at all,” Bokuto replies belatedly. His clothes changed now, the slowly gets closer, warily, as if moving faster would scare Akaashi off. They’re both standing behind the sofa, less than a step between them. Bokuto’s lips curl up just imperceptibly, and Akaashi notices his hair is still sticking to his forehead, dry but flat. It makes Bokuto look younger than usual, he’s cute.

Akaashi thinks for a moment maybe he should say something, as he looks up to meet Bokuto’s eyes. Instead he leans in for a kiss, as if it was a trained reflex. It feels natural, when Bokuto kisses back— the softness of his lips, the wetness of his tongue against Akaashi’s and Bokuto’s hand solid but gentle on Akaashi’s hip. 

It’s a brief kiss, but Akaashi has to look down for a moment, after Bokuto retreats, because he feels heat creep up his spine, all the way to his neck, burning him within. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Bokuto chirps all of a sudden and when Akaashi’s gaze is back on him, he’s already opened the fridge. He turns his head back, again with the smile of someone who’s up for a challenge. “I make great omelettes.”

He gets a snort back in reply. “You’re not gonna burn my kitchen, are you?”

Bokuto grabs his chest, as if he received a hit. “I can’t believe you can’t trust me in the kitchen. I’m the best, cook, you know ‘Kaashi? You should definitely invest on me.” He even points at himself with his thumb, then proceeds to spread the ingredients out on the counter.

Bokuto plays around the topic without actually bringing it out. But he’s not forceful and doesn’t look down, this time. He’s playful and bright, his joke was just a joke. 

“I’ll think about it,” Akaashi decides to reply, walking until he’s standing next to him in front of the kitchen sink. “For now, I think I’ll pass you the pans and such.”

“Oh, I like this option a lot ‘Kaashi.” 

Vega and Altair materialize the second Bokuto opens some of the ham, and Altair meows loudly and doesn’t shut up until Bokuto doesn’t feed him and Vega a slice of ham each. Bokuto glares when the cat tries to climb his leg, then pushes him away with the side of his foot.

Akaashi frowns, elbowing Bokuto just slightly as Altair tries to climb Bokuto’s leg again. “Don’t mistreat my cat Bokuto-san.”

“He’s exactly like Kuroo, I swear. When we were roommates he came to steal my food while I was cooking it.” He flips the omelette in the pan and looks down at the cat again. “I thought I was done with that shit, I didn’t expect you to have a cat that’s the exact copy of him.”

Akaashi frowns again, then crouches a bit to pick up Altair and make him climb his shoulder. “Bokuto san doesn’t understand us, right Altair? Let’s not listen to him. He’s evil.”

“Hey! I’m not evil!”

“No sex for Bokuto san tonight, what do you think Altair?”

  
  


/ 

The tv is on when Bokuto emerges of the bathroom, surrounded by a cloud of steam, however the volume is so low that all Akaashi can hear is the muffled laughter of the public whenever the announcer makes a joke. He’s looking at the screen distractedly, Vega curled up in his lap, sitting on the edge of his bed— white duvet and laundry clean sheets.

“Your hair’s still wet ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto comments, walking slowly towards him— his voice a bit raspy, but not too much.

He’s holding a fluffy towel, and Akaashi’s sure that one must be for him because there’s another one over Bokuto’s head, looking like some sort of weirdly looking veil. It’s funny. Akaashi should be the one showing Bokuto around, telling him where to find things— that the towels are in the second cabinet from the left and there’s an extra tube of toothpaste in the first drawer. Bokuto stands out like a sore thumb in an apartment where Akaashi’s reluctant to let Konoha in. He’s an invader in a space that has always been Akaashi’s and Akaashi’s only, that Akaashi’s kept secret because letting someone in his own house felt very much like letting them see the layer of raw skin he wouldn’t want anyone else to see.

However as he rubs Akaashi’s hair dry, one knee propped on the bed, Bokuto’s presence feels yes, foreign but also surprisingly comfortable.

“Are you tired, ‘Kaashi?” He asks— caring, sweet as usual.

“Mmh”, he hums back, closing his eyes and unconsciously letting his head weight into Bokuto’s big hands. He smells like Akaashi’s own body wash, and that makes Akaashi’s breath stutter for a moment— it’s so different from when they stayed at hotels, where they were forced to use whatever body shower was they found there. Today he smells familiar, like talc and Akaashi’s laundry detergent because of the hoodie Akaashi found for him. 

He smells a little bit Akaashi’s.

Which should make Akaashi stop immediately and rethink about this whole arrangement, maybe tell Bokuto to leave. Instead he smiles a little and circles Bokuto’s waist with both arms, pulling him in.

He can feel Bokuto’s laughter make his abs rigid and ripple like water against his cheek. “What’s wrong Akaashi?”

“Nothing,” he replies— his voice muffled by the fabric of the hoodie. 

Bokuto stops rubbing his hair dry, and Akaashi guesses that he’s thrown the towel on the ground — he can hear a faint thump, the Bokuto’s hugging him back, even harder than Akaashi’s hugging him. “I wasn’t exactly expecting this, but it’s nice you know?”

It’s Akaashi’s turn to chuckle. He lifts his head enough to search of Bokuto’s eyes, sneaking a hand underneath his hoodie and feeling the shape of Bokuto’s spine underneath his fingertips. Bokuto gives a full body shiver, then laughs again— the panicky Bokuto laugh, the one he does whenever Akaashi does something that throws him out of his comfort zone. 

Akaashi feels like breaking more rules than usual tonight. He feels like breaking them all. 

“I was a bit concerned about letting you come here, to be honest,” Akaashi says, his hand still drawing nonsensical lines on the skin of Bokuto’s back and his eyes now fixed somewhere else in the room. “I’m still very concerned, because I don’t let people in easily and I don’t want you to think...that I want to take the next step or…”

Bokuto hums once, then he leans in and whatever would’ve come after that ‘or’, dies in Akaashi’s throat. Bokuto kisses him again, only this time it feels lazy, as if they have all the time in the world to just kiss and no nothing else.

He cradles Akaashi’s jaw as he kisses him some more. It’s a deep kiss, the kind of kisses that leave Akaashi wanting for more, but it’s not intense nor heated— it almost feels calming, and in retrospect that’s probably what Bokuto’s intentions were.

Vega’s already left Akaashi’s lap a while ago, when Bokuto got too close for her to keep sitting there. She meows in the distance, and Akaashi hears it, along with the sound of the tv still on. The public laughs some more, and after that the jingle of instant ramen commercial follows.

It’s almost 3am as Akaashi lets himself fall laying down on the duvet, pulling Bokuto with him— their lips only one breath away.

/

When Konoha tells Akaashi him and Bokuto are acting like a couple, Akaashi just shuts him up with a glare, and the topic is never brought up again. Bokuto leaves a toothbrush at Akaashi’s place the third time he stops by, and despite Altair still not exactly liking him a lot, he doesn’t hiss at him anymore. Akaashi’s not been to Bokuto’s house yet, and he’s decided not to break that one rule— he’s not sure what’s the point by now, but he won’t break that one.

It’s a Wednesday, and Akaashi’s allowed to get off work a little earlier than usual. Akaashi’s the type to stay overtime almost everyday, despite Bokuto telling him it’s not healthy and Konoha calling him a workaholic. It’s just something he does and got used to, and it’s really hard to break bad habits when his boss takes advantage of it so often.

Tonight, however, his boss is leaving for some office trip with a few colleagues, and since Akaashi’s been ahead of his work schedule for a couple days now, his boss lets him and Konoha out early.

On a daily basis they would go for a round of drinks to the usual izakaya they’re regulars at, but Akaashi hadn’t taken into account that Konoha is the devil. 

He throws it as a light, casual comment as they walk away from their office. “Why don’t you go meet Bokuto at the gym where he works?”

He must notice Akaashi’s flabbergasted face, because he shrugs with the worst shit-eating grin Akaashi has never seen on him. “It would be a nice surprise, or something. I don’t know, you do you.”

“I don’t think it’s very appropriate for me to just appear there.”

Konoha snorts, looking up at the streetlights first, then at Akaashi next to him. “Are we going to pretend that he wouldn’t be very fucking happy about it?”

Akaashi doesn’t give him the satisfaction to get a reply. He keeps walking forward, fighting the itch to check his phone and maybe ask Bokuto if it’s ok if he goes. 

Technically, he never asks. Konoha leaves him at some point, probably knowing Akaashi would give in in the end, and gosh if he’s right. Akaashi doesn’t know whether he hates Konoha or himself more, when he stops in front of the gym building. 

The gym’s a fancy one, it’s pretty obvious from the entrance— all glass windows and new machines taking all of the space. The music coming from the inside is loud and rhytmated, yet it can’t muffle the loud voice of one of the instructors coming from the inside. It’s not Bokuto’s voice, but it’s enough to keep Akaashi from going in for a couple seconds.

“Looking for someone?” 

The voice coming from behind Akaashi belongs to a guy around his age,  _ very pretty _ if Akaashi can say so and clearly someone who takes very good care of his hair, considering how good it looks and that he’ll probably sweat it out at the gym.

Akaashi bows instinctively, then throws a glance inside the gym once again. “A trainer. Bokuto-san?”

“And why are you looking for my personal trainer?” the guy insists, sounding both suave and pushy at the same time. His tone makes Akaashi frown for a moment, and mentally step back, asking himself why he’s having a conversation with a stranger in the first place. He’s about to answer, when the man chortles to himself and moves a couple of steps forward. “I was just joking. Are you Akaashi?”

Akaashi blinks a couple times, then nods briefly. “Yes, I’m Akaashi Keiji. And you are…?”

“I’ll be offended if you tell me Bokuto hasn’t talked about me not even a little,” the guys starts, a little whiny. “Oikawa Tooru, nice to meet you. Bokuto will be done in thirty minutes or so. I was gonna mess up his schedule and let him work overtime, but since you’re here…” he leaves the sentence hanging like that with a smile that seems to be hinting at something, which makes Akaashi feel incredibly stupid and annoyed at the same time.

Bokuto  _ did mention _ Oikawa Tooru, multiple times in fact, since that first day at the Izakaya with Kuroo and Konoha. However, Akaashi decides not to say anything about that, hoping to close the conversation with a “Thank you,” expecting Oikawa Tooru to leave and do whatever he came to the gym to do.

Oikawa doesn’t leave, though. He actually ushers Akaashi inside, pointing at a few chairs on the left of the lobby. “I’ll wait for him with you, if you don’t mind,” he adds, and Akaashi would gladly say that he minds very much, but once again he forces an indifferent smile on his face and nods a couple times. 

“I don’t mind, Oikawa-san.”

A couple more clients of the gym walk towards the exit door, waving at Oikawa energetically, even exchanging a couple of short sentences with him. Akaashi concentrates on the area at back of the gym, trying to catch a glimpse of Bokuto among the training machines. He notices the spark of silver only when Oikawa points it to him as he sits awfully close to where Akaashi is. Akaashi wonders if Oikawa’s always like this or if he’s taking pleasure in seeing Akaashi so uncomfortable.

“Bokuto’s a great trainer, by the way,” Oikawa comments suddenly, clearly trying to start a conversation when Akaashi just wants to creepily stare at Bokuto from afar. “I wouldn’t have bet a cent of him in high school. I mean, he was good at volley and all, but I wouldn’t have thought he’d end up working as a personal trainer. He was very…”

Oikawa makes some flailing gestures with his arms, before going back to crouching forward again. “You know what I mean, right? He’s a little less...like that, now. But I think you still get it, right?”

“He’s very enthusiastic and positive,” Akaashi translates with the most neutral tone he can manage. He keeps looking at Bokuto in the distance, as he gives instructions about weight training to a middle age man half his size. Akaashi’s a bit disappointed about that. He hoped he would see Bokuto train, or something. 

“Yeah, that. And a lot of other shit. He’s a good guy though. He worried more than any of my other friends when I got my surgery done-”

“Your knee, he mentioned it. He also mentioned some Iwaizumi guy freaking out a lot, because you push yourself too much,” he says, his eyes still fixed on Bokuto. To his surprise, Oikawa’s voice breaks into a small laugh for no apparent reason.

“He really did mention me. I was joking, earlier. I didn’t think he would mention me for real...to his new...I mean-”

Akaashi’s already frowning by the end of the sentence, but he waits until Oikawa makes sense of his words to feel that urge to run away. 

“How long have you guys been dating, by the way? Must’ve been a few months by now?”

Akaashi goes rigid, his eyes go from Bokuto to the point of his shoes on the marmored floor of the waiting area. “I’m not sure what he said, but we’re not dating.” He realizes his voice comes out kind of hard, and that he probably looks on the verge of zooming out of the gym right now— his hand gripping at the edge of the chair and his shoulders contracted, but he doesn’t care.

He resents Bokuto for a moment. He wonder what he said, why he said that, how many people he told they were dating. How many people know Akaashi’s gay, without Akaashi having any idea?

“Hey, I don’t know what you’re thinking but… It’s ok. I just assumed that you guys were dating, since he sees you all the time and...erh..”

“If you’ll excuse me,” is what Akaashi replies instead. He stands up, walking to the water dispenser near the entrance without looking back at Oikawa. His hands are shaking a little as he takes one of the paper cups and fills it with water. He closes his eyes shut for a couple seconds after gulping on the water, trying to convince himself that Bokuto wouldn’t out him like that, that Bokuto would never do something to intentionally...or even unintentionally hurt him. 

There’s a few things Akaashi’s terrified of, and one of them is seeing his life crumbling in front of his eyes, because someone outed him. It’s never happened to anyone he knows, it’s not a trauma or anything, but that doesn’t stop him from being scared of it because it’s a  _ real _ possibility, and it’s one he has no power over.

He throws a worried glance towards the weight training area, where Bokuto was earlier. Only, this time Bokuto notices him and meets his eyes. Just as Akaashi had expected, he lights up when he realizes who he’s looking at, he breaks out in a grin. He looks so much younger when he smiles, Akaashi thinks, as he reluctantly walks back where Oikawa’s still sitting.

He tells himself he can ask Bokuto about what Oikawa said. Bokuto’s always answered sincerely, when Akaashi asked. This time won’t be different.

He has nothing to worry about.

“How long have you and Iwaizumi dated, instead?”

This triggers the cheekiest of smiles to appear on Oikawa’s face, and as he shifts position on his chair he looks like he’s ready to tell a very long story.

/

“I hope Oikawa didn’t bully you a lot,” Bokuto comments as they walk back to Akaashi’s house. It’s a longish walk, but Akaashi doesn’t mind it and Bokuto doesn’t complain about the distance. Their hands are locked and secured in the pocket of Bokuto’s windbreaker— Akaashi’s hand feels a bit sweaty to be honest, since Bokuto’s one is so warm, but he couldn’t take his hand out first even if someone had to point a gun to his head.

“It was fine.” 

Bokuto snorts, and Akaashi bites on his tongue lightly: his response definitely wasn’t convincing enough. “At first he was a bit...overwhelming,” he admits. “He told me about him and Iwaizumi-san, after that.” He pauses, throwing a glance towards Bokuto— the hoodie he’s wearing under the windbreaker is pulled down to prevent him from catching a cold, his eyes look especially golden, reflecting the city lights.

Bokuto doesn’t notice, so Akaashi allows himself to looks a little more.

“What of their crazy stories did he tell you about? I’ve heard them all, but Oikawa enjoys talking about  _ Iwachan _ so much that I feel bad stopping him.” There’s clearly affection in the way Bokuto talks about Oikawa, a certain tenderness in his voice. It’s similar to the way he talks about Kuroo, except he probably insults Kuroo more. Bokuto cherishing his friends, sharing their stories with Akaashi, making Akaashi a part of his life within his friendships too— in any other circumstance Akaashi would’ve freaked out by now. Akaashi doesn’t want strings attached. He severs them, cuts them off before he can get close to people. With Bokuto, though, he wishes he could wrap himself up with all those strings and get more and more stuck, until he’s so deeply embedded in Bokuto’s existence he couldn’t possibly back out. 

“Oikawa-san thought we were dating,” Akaashi comments— his voice flat and his eyes on the road. There’s a slight warmth blooming on his cheeks as he says it, but he can’t explain its presence. Or maybe he doesn’t need to. “He asked me about it,” he adds.

_ Silence _ .

When Akaashi turns his head to check on him, Bokuto’s expression is all over the place between worried, annoyed, apologetic and God knows what else. His mouth is hanging open, as if he’s trying to find the right words to say. Akaashi waits, and Bokuto blurts out “I never— I would never, ‘Kaashi!”

“It’s-”

“I feel like we had this conversation already, ‘Kaashi. You said we aren’t dating, and I’ve said it was ok. I wouldn’t have told Oikawa we’re dating, why would I do that?” Bokuto frowns, and he’s the one to slide his hand out of the pocket first. Akaashi’s hand falls out immediately after. It feels oddly cold, as Akaashi closes it up in a fist. 

There’s something akin to confusion and disappointment in Bokuto’s voice, and that tears a wound in some corner of Akashi’s heart and he can’t help but want to patch up as soon as possible. “I know,” he says, nodding a couple times. “I know I was just...telling you. I know you wouldn’t.”

Bokuto breathes out, looking straight ahead as they keep walking in silence for a few moments. The small crease between his brows is still there, even when Akaashi looks at his face one more time, as they stop at a red light.

Akaashi wasn’t even looking where they were going, quietly following Bokuto until now. There’s not many people in the neighborhood, as Bokuto seems to have chosen a less busy way back, with more houses than shops. It’s a humid night, and the red hue of the traffic light reflects on the wet asphalt. Akaashi’s hand still feels lonely, grazing his thigh without Bokuto’s keeping it warm.

“Bokuto-san, what I told you last time, about us not dating...I-”

“I told you it was ok, ‘Kaashi. I enjoy being with you, I don’t need us to label it if you don’t want to,” is what Bokuto replies, cutting Akaashi’s words before he can finish. It causes an unexpected explosion of frustration in Akaashi’s chest, and it churns in his stomach before Akaashi grabs Bokuto’s wrist and keeps him from walking.

The red light turns green, but the two of them don’t even see it. 

“It’s not ok. I’d love to be with you, all the time, Bokuto-san. Bokuto. Just— yeah. I  _ want to _ date you,” he says. “It doesn’t mean  _ I can _ , though.”

The crease between Bokuto’s eyebrows disappears, leaving Bokuto expressionless. Bokuto, whose thoughts always light up his face in one million micro-expressions. 

“I’m listening, ‘Kaashi,” he murmurs.

They cross the intersection when the light is green again, but this time Akaashi’s fingers search for Bokuto’s in the couple of steps dividing them. Akaashi can’t remember if it’s the first time he openly reached for Bokuto’s hands while they’re on the street. It’s not that important after all. What’s important is that Bokuto doesn’t let go, and tightens his grip on Akaashi’s hand.  _ Warm _ , Akaashi thinks. 

“I’m the only son in my family. It’s just my mom and sister. My mom divorced my dad when I was a kid, and we’ve always stuck together after that.”

Bokuto listens in silence. He doesn’t interrupt and he never lets go of Akaashi’s hand. 

“They don’t know I like men. They can’t know, because being gay means I’ll never get married and I’ll never live the life they want me to live.” Akaashi explains it as if he trained himself to tell this story countless of times, but never got to tell it to anyone. He didn’t tell Konoha either, not like this. Konoha figured it out, his own way, until the last conversation they had. He probably knew all along, though, since they share the workplace and he knows what it would be like if Akaashi came out of the closet.

“So what I’m living here is like...a fake life,” Akaashi adds with a small, bittersweet smile. “I’m being selfish for a while, before I have to live a lie for the rest of my life, you know?”   


When Bokuto looks back to him, he’s the saddest Akaashi’s ever seen him. “But I don’t want you to live such a miserable life, ‘Kaashi. You don’t deserve it.” Bokuto breathes in, grazing the back of Akaashi’s hand— the one he’s holding, with his thumb. “It doesn’t really matter if I’m there in your life or not when it happens...that…” he chuckles, selfless and carefree. “...is not important. Of course I’m hoping I’d be in your life but yeah, regardless. I think you should try to come out to your family at least.”

It makes sense, it does. Akaashi knows that’s what he should’ve done from the start, but it’s easier said than done. The weight of his responsibilities pushes him to the ground and he’s too weak to stand up and get rid of it. “I know,” he murmurs, and he almost expects Bokuto to say something more in that regard, but he doesn’t say anything.

They keep walking quietly, and the silence that Aaashi thought a bit uncomfortable at first, becomes almost like a fuzzy blanket covering the both of them. When Bokuto speaks again, it’s because Akaashi’s apartment is right in front of them. Akaashi spaced out throughout the walk, focusing only on the sensation of Bokuto’s hand in his— skin against skin and on the possibility of having it all permanently, Bokuto and all he comes with.

  
  


/

When Akaashi wakes up the morning after, Bokuto’s cleaning the litter box, crouching on the floor with a plastic bag in one hand and the poop scoopy thing in the other. Akaashi has no idea where he’s learned how to clean the litter. For all he knows Bokuto could’ve googled it while Akaashi was sleeping and decided to do it himself. Nonetheless, seeing Bokuto struggling to keep Altair away from sniffing his own poop triggers a giggle Akaashi really can’t stop, as he leans against the doorframe of the bedroom. 

“Shit!” Bokuto startles, then gracefully falls on his ass, both arms in the air. Altair is completely unphased: he rubs himself against Bokuto’s thigh, before lazily walking towards Akaashi and circling his ankles a couple times, as if nothing happened. 

“You’re such a mean cat, Altair,” Akaashi murmurs, pushing the cat away softly with the side of his foot. Except the cat is having none of it, because he comes back rubbing against his calves full force.

Akaashi’s still trying to push the cat away, when Bokuto looks up at him with an expression between betrayal and furious embarrassment. He’s cute. 

“Did I wake you?” He asks, very nonchalantly. Ten for the effort, if it wasn’t that there’s definitely pink tinging the point of his ears and the base of his neck. Akaashi shakes his head, bending down to pick Altair up and cradle the cat in his arms. He rubs his nose on the top of Altair’s head, as he scratches his belly.

Mornings make Akaashi feel lightheaded. They make him forget about all the shitty stuff in his life, and this morning is not different from the others. Especially having Bokuto there, cleaning his cats litter box still in his pajama pants and no shirt on, terrible bed hair and a very visible hickey on the base of his neck. It makes everything feel a bit surreal.

It feels terribly domestic, and yet something Akaashi would do anything to have everyday of his life. The quiet of the house except for the rustling of the plastic bag Bokuto’s tying up, the dim sunlight filtering through the curtains. All that’s missing is some good coffee.

Altair purrs in his arms as Akaashi walks closer to Bokuto. He’s sitting crosslegged on the floor, trying to figure out how to close the igloo shaped litter box, and he must be so focused doing that, that when Akaashi leans in and leaves a kiss on the top of his head he goes all rigid. 

“Good morning, by the way,” Akaashi says as he draws back, Altair trying to climb up his shoulder. “Want some coffee Bokuto?”

Bokuto doesn’t look directly at him, when he nods. “Yeah. Your coffee’s the best, ‘Kaashi.”

“It’s just drip coffee,” Akaashi complains softly, but he lets go of the cat before filling the kettle and preparing the filter. He wonders if Bokuto noticed he dropped the ‘-san’ after his name. It felt appropriate to call him more casually, considering he was sitting there cleaning the litter box of Akaashi’s cats. He doesn’t know, really, it just felt right.

They drink coffee sitting on the sofa, Akaashi’s legs on Bokuto’s lap. Bokuto taps gently on Akaashi’s shins, yawning every now and then. Vega joins them after a while, curling up in the space between Akaashi’s legs and Bokuto’s crotch, much for Akaashi’s amusement. “I can’t believe she keeps choosing you. I feel a bit betrayed.”

Bokuto snorts lightly, jokingly bitter. “Altair almost bit my hand off when I was hugging you yesterday night. At least one of the cats is loyal.”

“It’s because he’s my baby, you’re stealing me from him.” Akaashi’s reply is followed by a shrug and a sip from his coffee. “He sees you as another alpha in the house and he doesn’t like it.”

He almost immediately regrets his choice of words, because Bokuto puts on such an amused but teasing face that Akaashi suddenly wants to disappear inside the sofa. 

“‘Kaashi! I’m flattered! Do you see me as the alpha male of the house as well?” He looks like he could explode if Akaashi patted his head, which is why he stands up instead heading to put his empty cup of coffee in the sink.

“Whatever makes you happy Bokuto, I don’t know.”

“I’m pouting over here, ‘Kaashi.”

“I see that. That’s very alpha male, I have to say,” Akaashi teases back, and Bokuto howls in reply, clearly discontent. 

Akaashi’s eyes go back to him only after he’s rinsed his cup. He’s turned on the tv and lowered the volume, and now he’s playing with Vega making her chase his hand on the sofa. Akaashi’s heart can handle a lot of things: keeping secrets, being by himself, forcing himself not to believe in love. What he can’t handle though, is how perfectly Bokuto fits in his life like a puzzle piece.

It makes him want to shout on top of his lungs and explode right there. Maybe that would help get rid of this growing feeling in his chest that keeps swelling and swelling when Akaashi’s not looking. 

It makes him want to just go there and kiss Bokuto silly.

That, he can do. Exploding, maybe he can think about that another day.

Bokuto looks a bit surprised when Akaashi pushes Vega off the couch and straddles him. He looks even more confused when Akaashi circles his neck with both his arms and leans in for a kiss that’s all teeth and want.

There’s still a crease between his brows when Akaashi draws back slightly to take a breath. “What’s wrong?” 

It’s a conflicted look that Bokuto throws somewhere behind Akaashi. “...you pushed the cat off…? Won’t she be sad now?”

Akaashi doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He pecks Bokuto on the lips once more. “Shit, you’re perfect.” And once more. “She’ll be fine. Now, kiss me?”

So Bokuto does. And he also lifts Akaashi up and walks them both to the bedroom without breaking their kiss— which is really hot, if you asked Akaashi. 

The window’s open and there’s a nice chilly wind blowing in, making the curtains swell like wide, white sails. It’s a couple of hours after and Akaashi really doesn’t want to leave the bed, despite it being almost eleven. Bokuto’s snoring lightly with his head on Akaashi’s chest, Altair’s somewhere on the white duvet all curled up, and Vega’s purring under Bokuto’s bicep, on the pillow. Akaashi wonders if this is what heaven looks like.

He stares at the ceiling for a while, carding his fingers through Bokuto’s silver hair distractedly. Everything’s perfect, until the doorbell rings loudly and he’s forced back to reality.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on twitter @honeyy_popcorn!


End file.
